Haunted Skulls and Heavy Questions
by sachi-sama
Summary: Jake wants to deal with this ghost in his house and make it out of this night alive. Dirk just wants to ask his dumb boyfriend to move in with him already. But in the midst of dealing with an angry spirit, he admits he could probably time things better.


_Happy Halloween! Okay, so I'm a little late, but let's pretend I'm on time. This was originally an RP I did with the wonderful LateNiteSlacker, and I decided to twist it into an actual story. She was the fabulous Dirk to my Jake! The new update for "Moving Heaven and Earth" is still being written, so I'm going to just throw this at you to distract you while I continue working on it. Review for love!_

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><p><span><em>Haunted Skulls and Heavy Questions<em>

He runs up the stairs two at a time, his lungs screaming for oxygen but he ignores them. Everything he's been ignoring the past few months, everything he's been telling himself he hasn't been seeing—_God_, he was a fool. He shouldn't have been pretending nothing was wrong but he didn't want his friends to needlessly worry.

He finally makes it to his destination and he pounds on the door as hard as he can, panting by this point.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'. Hold your horses," Dirk's irritable voice calls from inside. Jake can't blame him, it _is_ a little late and Jake didn't bother calling before showing up.

The door wrenches open and Dirk stands there, a towel wrapped around his waist and another being used to dry his hair. He takes a moment to observe his boyfriend's disheveled appearance, not protesting when Jake shoves him aside and enters the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

"'Sup, Jake?" Dirk asks casually, not fazed in the slightest.

"Dirk! There was—I was at home and there was someone in my room with me—"

"Oh?" Dirk asks, eyebrow arched. "Who was this _someone_ in your room?"

"I...don't know," Jake admits. "I've been seeing strange things lately and I thought it was my imagination, but this time—Dirk, it _can't_ have been!"

"What kinds of strange things?"

"Just—shadows. And my things are being moved around when I know precisely where I left them before, and _confound it_ Strider, would you stop making that face and take this seriously?!"

Dirk is grinning at him like a fox, his eyes full of amusement.

"You want me to believe that someone is in your house for the sole purpose of moving your shit around to mess with you?" he inquires.

Jake throws his hands in the air with an exasperated huff.

"You know what? This is my fault for thinking you could actually help me with this! You can be just as bad as Jane sometimes, Dirk, not believing me when I'm telling you that I'm—_terrified_ and-!" He cuts himself off angrily and turns to the door. "I'll just go to Roxy's then."

"Hey, hey! Hang on!" Dirk grabs his wrist and spins him around, dropping the towel he was using to dry his hair in favor of holding Jake to his chest. "Come on, don't be like that. I didn't think you were being serious."

"You never think I'm being serious," Jake mumbles, leaning into Dirk's hold in spite of himself. Dirk always smells so good after his infinite showers.

"I'm sorry," Dirk says sincerely, kissing Jake's mop of hair. "C'mon, tell me what happened. What'd you see tonight that made it so different?"

"I was in my room and I—I _heard_ something so I turned around and Dirk—it was this...figure but it was _smiling_ at me."

A shiver runs down his spine at the memory of that leering smile. In his mind, it was the promise of something sinister to come. He couldn't help himself, he ran to his car and booked it to Dirk's as fast as he possibly could, even choosing to run up the various flights of stairs in favor of standing still in the elevator. That smile made his blood run cold in his veins.

"Hey, you're okay," Dirk says, rubbing his arms like he thinks the goosebumps are from Jake just being cold.

"I-I don't even feel like I can go home by myself with that—_thing_. It's in my grandmother's house and I can't just _leave_ her house in that state but..."

It's only been a little over six months since her passing but Jake still mourns her every day. That house seems too big and too empty without her, the extra space just echoing her memory.

"Babe, stop _shivering_, goddamn," Dirk murmurs, hugging Jake to him tighter. "You're safe here, okay? Is this—is this why you've been so jumpy lately? Rox said she thought you were just anxious about something, and I didn't wanna seem too nosy for asking."

"It's been happening for a while now," Jake admits, "but I've never actually seen it before tonight." He tilts his face into his boyfriend's neck, just breathing in Dirk's scent and trying to calm down. "I'm sorry, I was just so scared..."

"Don't apologize. Maybe—do you have any idea what it might want? Why it would be showing itself now?"

Jake sighs, appreciating Dirk's willingness to at least humor him. Dirk is a very scientific person, and he doesn't believe in anything that hasn't been proven to exist. But Jake knows what he saw, regardless of whether or not science says it's real. And he thinks he knows why it's more active now, but he can't say so just yet.

"No. I have no idea," he lies. "But...people talk to spirits all the time in movies, right? Maybe I could—"

"If you think you're getting a ouija board and prancing around your house, you've got another thing coming," Dirk grumbles.

"I do not _prance_, Strider!"

"Well, whatever the hell you'd do. Why can't you just call someone to—get rid of it or something. Don't priests do that shit?"

"Because, Dirk," Jake says softly, "what if it's Gramma?"

Dirk stiffens against him, and Jake smiles to himself when Dirk exhales shakily into his hair. Dirk was close to Jake's grandmother as well, since the two of them were practically raised together, and they both took her loss very hard, though they dealt with it in different ways.

"I don't think your sweet grandmother would be smiling at you and freaking you the fuck out," Dirk finally says.

"I don't either but. Golly, I don't know what happens to people in the afterlife anymore than the next bloke. She might not be meaning to scare me. If I could just...communicate with her..."

He thinks for a moment, his hands idly tracing patterns in Dirk's soft skin.

"Eureka!" he grins, pulling back. "Do you still have your old tape recorder?"

"You mean the one we used for our fake talk show? Yeah, it's in my workshop," Dirk says confusedly.

"I can use that to talk to the spirit! See if it's Gramma—and if not, I can at least see what it wants and maybe convince it to leave my house. Can I borrow it?"

Dirk frowns at him, gauging how serious he is. "No."

"Dirk!"

"You can't borrow it because I'm going with you. Just give me a minute to fix my hair."

"But—you've got work in the morning! And why you have to fix it both before and after bed is beyond me, no one is even going to see you but me!" Jake whines, though he's relieved to not have to go alone. Dirk merely shrugs at him and heads to the bathroom, and Jake huffs at him. "Hurry up then!"

Dirk is already meticulously tending to his hair, going through his various products. "Don't be jealous of these perfect looks. Besides, it's a ghost. Something tells me it's not going anywhere."

Jake swats at him, "That's not my concern, you doof! I can't keep you up late in good conscience since we've both got work tomorrow! I just—couldn't spend another night in that house with something smiling at me from the shadows..."

"Well," Dirk says, his voice quieter than normal, "you could just not stay there anymore. And stay with me instead."

"Oh, right," Jake sighs, absently waving Dirk off. "All my stuff is there, I'd have to go back sooner than later! I suppose the _best_ course of action is to at least see what's in my house before I go around being afraid of it." He smiles at Dirk. "But thank you for the offer."

"Yeah, don't mention it," Dirk says quickly, his voice slightly dejected though Jake has no idea why. He notices Jake's concerned expression and changes the subject. "You know of anything else we should bring?"

"I've got my camcorder at home. The one you made fun of because I filmed _incredible_ works of art on it that you never appreciated."

"Those were certainly incredible," Dirk snorts. "The tape recorder is in the box labeled 'sweet ass recording devices'. You might have to sort through some other pretty sweet stuff from the 80's."

Jake salutes him playfully and leaves the room to head to Dirk's office that they've affectionately named "The Workshop" because it's filled with so many gadgets and oddities. He looks around until he finds the box, and is pleased when he barely has to sort through it at all to find what he's looking for.

"I found it!" he calls excitedly, smiling fondly at the little thing. He and Dirk used to talk into the silly little recorder for hours, pretending they hosted a radio show.

"Does it still work?" Dirk calls from the bathroom.

Jake presses the rewind button to find it dead. "It just needs batteries, I think! I'll go check the stash in your bedroom." He shuffles into Dirk's room like he owns the place, moving to his bedside table drawer to sift around to find AA batteries.

"Annnnnd we have life!" Jake announces, pressing rewind again. The little tape inside whirs around before clicking to a stop, and he presses play. He can't help the elated smile that spreads across his face when his and Dirk's twelve year old voices fill the apartment.

"Oh my fucking god, no," Dirk says from the bathroom.

"Hush, this is brilliant!" Jake calls. Younger Dirk is busy making bro puns and busting out rhymes while younger Jake is laughing so hard he's snorting.

"Brilliant is a very charitable word, baby," Dirk says. He emerges from the bathroom, fully dressed, hair finally done. He leans against the door frame and smiles at how Jake is sitting on his bed, laughing at the recordings. "We can save that tape of you want. I've got blanks in the same box as the recorder."

Jake wipes tears from under his glasses and nods, definitely unwilling to tape over this golden material. He leaves the tape playing on the bed while he goes to retrieve a blank one, and the room fills with the young Jake declaring he and Dirk would always be together, because the world just wouldn't make sense if they weren't.

"Heh, sounds like even then I had things figured out, eh?" Jake asks, moving to kneel on the bed.

"Yeah," Dirk says, smiling softly. "I think we both did." The tape reaches the end and crackles a bit before clicking to a stop, and he takes it out, leaving the door open for the blank tape in Jake's hand. He joins Jake on the bed, pulling him into a tender kiss.

"You ready to play ghostbusters?" Jake asks quietly, sliding the new tape in.

"Let's do it." Dirk reaches over to grab the flashlight on the floor, bopping it playfully on Jake's head before grabbing his hand and leading him toward the door.

"Wait! Are you driving, or am I?" Jake asks, and Dirk just twirls the keys Jake never saw him grab in response.

He follows Dirk outside into the chilly night air, cursing himself for not bringing a jacket along. By the time they get into the car he's already shivering, trying to stop his teeth from chattering so Dirk won't lecture him about not taking better care of himself again. He gives Dirk his most charming smile, but it does nothing to get rid of the stern look Dirk levels on him.

"I w-w-was in a h-hurry!" he defends. Dirk says nothing, just reaches into his backseat and pulls the jacket he probably keeps just for this type of situation, tossing it at Jake before starting the car.

"Can't have your teeth chattering so loudly. The ghosts'll hear us coming," he says simply, and Jake thanks his lucky stars that Dirk is bypassing the lecture.

He pulls the jacket on gratefully. Dirk is bigger than him, and Jake always enjoyed the way his boyfriend's clothes swallow him whole. The sleeves are too long but he can manage holding the camera, he thinks. It's worth the hassle, he decides, Dirk's scent already calming him down enough where he can think rationally about this irrational situation.

"I suppose we'll have to do all that talking nonsense to the spirit...even though it could potentially just be us talking to no one." He looks at Dirk fretfully. "You _do_ believe me, right? You truly do?"

Dirk sighs as he pulls onto the road, "I believe you _saw_ something. In that sense, I believe you. But for me to believe it was a ghost—I'll have to see it for myself."

Jake considers this. He knows Dirk is a rational person, and on one hand, he'd like to give Dirk evidence to believe in something like this. On the other hand, he's just scared. If something happens, it'll be _his_ fault, and the guilt alone would be enough to make _him_ into a ghost. He reaches over to thread his fingers through Dirk's, unable to suppress the shudder that has nothing to do with the cold, picturing that leering smile in his head.

"Look, whatever it is, we'll get through it together. If it's a person, we'll kick their ass. If it's a ghost, we'll kick its non-corporeal ass somehow," Dirk assures him, squeezing his fingers. Jake just nods, watching the world outside pass by outside until they pull up to his house, Dirk parallel parking across the street.

Jake hops out of the car and waits for Dirk, looking sheepishly at his own house that looks more formidable than welcoming. He remembers when his grandmother made it cheery, but now it's just empty and scary. He doesn't think it feels like _home_ anymore, but he does his best to shake the thought for the sake of getting through the night.

"Alright then. Let's bust this ghost, Strider!" he says with false enthusiasm, casting the house another look. He happens to see the curtain fluttering in a way that makes his stomach fall. He knows there shouldn't be any drafts in the house.

"Hey," Dirk says as he stands up, reaching for Jake. "It's alright. I'm right here beside you."

"Yeah, I'm—it's fine. Let's just go inside, shall we?" Jake asks, fishing in his pocket for his keys as he leads the way to the door.

He fumbles with the lock for a moment, ignoring the way his hands are shaking. He finally gets it open, and it creaks in an ominous way, but he forces himself to step inside, where he dashes toward the nearest light switch. He jumps when something grabs his hand, but it's only Dirk, who's giving him a very concerned look.

"Sorry, you—you gave me a fright, heh," Jake grins uneasily. He looks around again, not sure what exactly he's expecting, but...it feels like someone...or _something_ is watching them.

"It's okay," Dirk assures him. "So you saw this thing in your room?"

"Yeah, erm... I was actually changing clothes for bed, haha. I suppose I've got a peeping tom ghost, eh?" Jake chuckles.

"Alright," Dirk scowls, already heading up the stairs. "Let's exorcise this perverted fuck, pronto."

Jake follows closely behind, falling behind only to dig through his hallway closet and find his camcorder—but of course it's dead. He curses and pulls out his phone, deciding that camera will suffice.

"So, here?" Dirk asks once they get inside Jake's room, gesturing around. It's messy and nondescript, but it's far from creepy in any way. No ghost or peeping tom to be found.

"Yes," Jake nods, already recording with his phone. "In movies they, um. They provoke them sometimes. Should—should we be mean? Do you think?"

"Go for it," Dirk says, but Jake thinks he should at least _start out _polite.

"Is there...anything in this room that would like to...communicate with me?" he asks. He and Dirk are both silent as they wait for an answer, but nothing happens.

"Or is there anything here that wants to bone my boyfriend?" Dirk adds, and Jake glares at him.

"Take this seriously! It couldn't do that even of it _did_ want to!" He takes a deep breath and stares at his phone. "Is...there anything in this room that would like to..._hurt_ me?"

Nothing happens for a few seconds, and he breathes a sigh of relief—before the bedroom door slams closed behind them.

Dirk whirls around, his eyebrows almost in his hair. "This—this is an old house, right? It gets drafty and the doors close sometimes on their own, yeah?"

"O-on cue, Strider?" Jake asks, shaking so badly he's in danger of dropping his phone. "I-it said it wants to h-_hurt_ me..." He steadies his hands enough to check and see if he got anything on his phone. His stomach drops when he sees a shadowy pair of hands slamming his bedroom door closed.

Dirk growls behind him—when did he get there?—and promptly marches across the room to throw the door open. "Whoever you are, that isn't fucking funny!"

"It's okay, it can't touch me if it's a spirit—if it's a human one at least," Jake assures him, trying to calm himself down. He watches the hand in the footage a few more times before giving Dirk a fearful look. "I-I think we should see if we can get a few recordings while we're here."

Dirk gives him a look, but he fishes for the recorder anyway, jamming the button down and holding it out of Jake's grip. "Who the fuck are you and why do you wanna hurt my boyfriend?"

Jake nudges Dirk, waiting for a few moments to give the spirit a chance to answer before he tacks on a question of his own.

"What do you want from me?"

For Dirk's question there's no answer, but for Jake's there's an abundance of static, followed by a croaky voice that's _definitely_ not his grandmother saying _"Death"_.

"Why?" Dirk growls, pressing record again. "_Why_ do you want him dead?"

Jake's just grateful Dirk is the one holding the recorder, because he doesn't think his shaking hands could hold it firmly. They both listen as the static returns, the voice saying _"Mine"_.

"He is _not_ fuckin' yours," Dirk hisses lowly, moving closer to Jake, who burrows against him.

He knew there was _something_. But—god that voice. It's not like any he's ever heard before and he's terrified. If it was an actual _enemy_ he'd—at least not be frozen. But as it is, Jake can't even lift his head to look around, afraid of what he might see.

"Dirk," he says quietly. "I think we should g-go. That's definitely not Gramma..."

"Yeah," Dirk replies, rubbing his arms. "Yeah, okay let's go. And let's not fuckin' come back. Get you some stuff, baby, you're staying with me."

Jake scrambles to do so when the lights flicker. He casts Dirk a terrified look before they're both bathed in complete darkness. He feels his way back to Dirk, only stumbling over something once—probably a stack of comic books—and he finds Dirk near the corner.

"Holy hell, what bad timing," he mumbles.

"Tell me about it," Dirk says.

"Let's just...we can leave my stuff here, let's just go. I don't want to be here anymore, Dirk, it's—"

"Shhh. We're going. C'mon, I've got you."

They manage to find their way out of the room, feeling along the walls for leverage when something—something—touches Jake's back, a searing hot pain trailing along his spine.

"Dirk!"

"What?"

Jake hurriedly whips his head around but Christ, he wishes he hadn't. That face, that awful leering face, that wicked smile he had seen earlier, it's directly in front of him. He screams, unable to contain it, and Dirk tries in vain to calm him down—when the thing pushes both of them directly down the stairs.

They land in a heap on the floor, Jake on top of Dirk, both of them groaning in pain.

"The fuck was that?" Dirk asks quietly. "You okay?"

"Y-yeah, no harm done," Jake says, looking around. He stands shakily to his feet, pulling Dirk along with him. "It's probably just trying to s-shake us up a bit."

"Consider me shaken," Dirk says. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

They go to the door, but of course it's stuck. Jake watches sadly as his boyfriend starts trying to yank it open in vain, progressively getting angrier.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess, love," Jake mumbles. "My hair-brained ideas always get us into trouble but I didn't think—"

"No, it's not your fault," Dirk assures him, already pulling him back into his arms, always trying so hard to be Jake's protector. "We'll just—figure something out."

"Dirk, it scratched me," Jake whispers, as if to hide the knowledge from the thing in the room with them. "I don't...I don't think it's just a ghost."

"What? You sure?"

"P-pretty sure."

"Okay—okay fuck. Window, now."

They follow the sliver of street light coming inside, and Dirk pulls the curtains aside, trying to pull the window up. "Shit. Can I break it?"

Jake swallows down a whine of protest. It seems a little silly to reprimand his boyfriend for wanting to trash his grandmother's house but it's already on the tip of his tongue.

"No! I-I mean... Do you _have_ to?"

"Yeah," Dirk says quietly. "It's not giving me a choice, here."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes, I'll...find someone to deal with it later. Break it then, I just want to go _home_."

Both of them freeze, Dirk turning to look at him. Jake can see his surprised look illuminated in the streetlamp.

"Home, huh?" Dirk finally asks, grabbing an umbrella from the stand by the door.

"Shut it," Jake grumbles, watching as Dirk prepares to smash the window in.

"No, I don't think I will."

"I don't think now is the time to talk about it!"

Dirk chuckles at him and slams the umbrella through, using it to get rid of the excess glass. He helps hoist Jake through first, quickly jumping after him, both of them landing in the bushes outside. Jake really wishes he'd trimmed them now, because they're poking him in places no man should be poked.

"Fuck, now I'm gonna need another shower," Dirk curses, and Jake can't help but laugh at him.

"We have to actually leave first, you silly fool," he says.

Dirk opens his mouth to respond, but it's drowned out by a terrible scream, almost unearthly in the way it makes Jake's hair stand on end. Every window in the house shatters at the same time, sprinkling them with glass from the upstairs windows.

"Fuck!" Dirk shouts, trying to shield both of them. Jake looks behind them to see the shadowy figure looming. "Jake, we're not in the clear yet, run for the car!"

It all happens so fast, Jake feels he could've blinked and missed it. The thing tosses Dirk aside like he weighs nothing, sending him flying across the yard and headfirst into a tree. Jake screams and tries to run to his boyfriend's side, but something has his collar in a tight grip, pulling him back and hoisting him back through the window, back up the stairs, into the house of horrors.

He tries to grab onto the railing but he can't fight the strong grip on him. He has to get back to Dirk—Dirk _needs_ him. But he can't get loose. He's dragged back into his bedroom, the door slamming closed behind him.

"What do you _want_ from me!" he shouts, looking around. There's nothing but silence all around.

He sits next to his skull collection, which has admittedly gotten out of hand, and curls into himself. He hears a strange noise and looks up to see one of the skulls, his newest one, actually, begin rolling across the floor, almost like something pushed it. To his horror, the black figure begins appearing _from_ the skull, and hovers over him, sickening smile stretching wide.

"JAKE!" Dirk screams from downstairs.

"Up here!" Jake shouts back, scrambling to the door. He hears Dirk running up the stairs. "Dirk, you have to go! This thing—it only wants me, right? I can't let you be in danger because of me!"

"Shut up, English," Dirk hisses. "And stand back."

"You stubborn _dick_," Jake replies. He steps out of the way while Dirk rams into the door, nearly knocking it off its hinges until it finally opens, Dirk running straight to him and pulling him close.

"Like hell I'd leave you alone with this thing," he says. "I'm not letting it take you from me."

"B-but..."

"Shhhh. We'll figure this out together, okay? I need you to _think_, Jake. You've lived here your whole life with no problems. Why is this thing here now?"

"Um..." Jake wipes his eyes and tries to focus, his hands gingerly touching the new lump on Dirk's head to assess the damage. "A m-moment ago...one of my skulls... Can't spirits attach to artifacts?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. Which one is it?" Dirk asks.

"The one with the crack." Jake says.

"Where'd you get it from?"

"Thrift st—ahh!" He cuts off into a strangled cry when a burning pain sears into his back again. "Dirk-!"

"What? Jake, what—" Dirk's hands travel to his back, and he yanks them away hurriedly, staring in horror at the fact that they're covered in blood. "Jake!"

"W-we have to destroy that skull!" Jake hisses, burying his face in Dirk's chest. He refuses to give the spirit the satisfaction of knowing it's hurting him.

"Destroying shit is something I can do. Give me a minute. I'm gonna have to let you go, okay?"

Jake moans feebly, both at the searing pain in his back and from the knowledge that Dirk is going to leave him, even for a short amount of time. He feels like Dirk is the only thing keeping him standing right now, his body battered from everything that's happened. But Dirk still slides free from his grip, moving to the other side of the room quickly in search of something to destroy the skull with—but even in such a short amount of time, the spirit in the room descends on Jake, its only goal seeming to be to terrify him as it moves closer and closer—

There's the sound of gunfire, and then something cracking. A sickening shriek fills the air as the spirit disappears, Jake's body finally giving out as his legs crumble. Dirk is at his side in an instant, holding one of Jake's guns.

"You...finally learned to shoot," Jake teases. He's so goddamn tired.

"Are you okay?" Dirk asks, gingerly lifting Jake from the ground, careful to avoid his injuries. "I shot the skull in a thousand pieces so—it's over, yeah?"

"Yes, I think so," Jake replies, leaning on Dirk with a groan. He freezes at the way Dirk is staring at him, his vivid gaze fierce.

"Jake," Dirk says quietly. "Move in with me."

"Wha—"

"I know this thing is gone now and it's just—I've been thinking about it before anyway, how much I hate it when you leave... And I know this is your grandmother's house, but it's just—"

"Dirk," Jake smiles wearily, and Dirk's mouth immediately snaps shut. "You asked me why the ghost was acting up now all of a sudden and not ever before? I was...going to ask you if I could move in. I was talking to Jane about having to give up a few of my collectibles, and I guess the spirit got desperate."

They stare at each other, Dirk's look of disbelief slowly fading into a wide smile.

"You're sure? But your grandmother-"

"She made this place home. But she's not here anymore, Dirk, and this house is just...so _big_. I'd like very much to...make a new home. For it to be _our_ home," Jake says. He whines in pain when Dirk pulls him into a crushing hug.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Dirk hisses, immediately letting him go. "Fuck, I just—_God_, Jake, I love you so much."

"I love you, too," Jake says. "Now let's go home, okay?"

"Yeah. Fuck yes, okay," Dirk babbles and Jake laughs at him, having to lean fully on Dirk as they hobble down the stairs, battered and torn, but not broken, both of them ready to start their lives _together_.

Everything is going to be okay, Jake decides as Dirk frets over the scratches on his back in the car, the house empty and ominous across from them.

And as Dirk starts the car and begins driving to _their_ apartment, reaching over to link his fingers with Jake's, Jake decides they'll be okay as well. As long as they have each other. He closes his eyes and leans his head on the window, a smile on his face as Dirk playfully squeezes his fingers.

But if he _hadn't_ closed his eyes...he might not have missed the shadow in the rear-view mirror, visible only for a moment before disappearing with a sickeningly stretched smile on its face...


End file.
